


Colors

by HeartsandThumbs



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Established Jensen Ackles/Misha Collins, Fluff, Hamilton References, Healthy Relationships, M/M, Politics, References to Supernatural (TV), Supernatural Shade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 06:27:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartsandThumbs/pseuds/HeartsandThumbs
Summary: Fluffy and cute little Cockles ficlet with lots of love.Supernatural Shade & Political Discussion involved.





	Colors

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my family- and to anyone else who needs a little Cockles and maybe a little push to the polls. (Go vote!)
> 
> Beta-Read by the Lovely & Talented [MashiarasDream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MashiarasDream)  
> Go read her stuff! It's beautiful, and healthy, and amazing- consider this your fic rec!
> 
> I love comments.  
> Also, sorry, first Cockles fic in a long while. Hope you enjoy. <3

* * *

* * *

 

_ Home. _

 

_ Summer heat, the taste of a freshly brewed beer, playing dress-up with JJ complete with lipstick, the stiffness in his muscles after playing helicopter with the twins for the thirtieth time that day, landing at Bergstrom International, seeing D’s smiling face, the dry Texas autumn that was almost summer… _

 

Home was simple: it was safety, and love, and being welcomed. It wasn’t just a location specifically in Austin with his lovely wife and three kids. It was here, in this moment, too- his other partner’s arms wrapped securely around him, their lips not touching- but the same energy and static that the chick flicks called ‘fireworks’ flowing between them regardless, lazy and long breaths as they came down from being one. That was home, too.

Home was in Austin, and it was also in Vancouver on long and frustrating cold winter nights where he and Misha had been up for way too long, and should probably spend the little time they have between takes sleeping, but they spent it wrapped up in each other instead.

Misha was beautiful- he was safety, and kindness, and good- and, he was also very naked and warm. Vancouver, on the other hand, was not entirely warm, so Jensen kept trying to burrow into Misha, which caused him to laugh. When Misha smiled, it was like time stood still, and all that was before him was this brilliant, stunning, passionate man- with a smile that could send raincloud days packing like they’d never been there in the first place.

Today, the show was bothering him a little more than usual. He peeked at Misha’s- or, rather, Castiel’s- trenchcoat out of the corner of his eye. He wondered more times than not anymore if maybe it was his fault that Cas and Dean didn’t get snuggle sessions, or passionate kisses- or even the normal innocent ones. It seemed wrong, and Jensen couldn’t begin to fathom treating Misha like his character treated Castiel. It was wearing on him hard. It didn’t help that in moments like the current one, he felt extra vulnerable- coming down from the heavens with his angel grounding him. His angel. “Castiel deserves better,” Jensen said abruptly, chills running up his neck as he heard his voice cut through the silence.

Misha’s blue eyes had been half-closed, somewhere between blissful peace, and the edges of sleep tugging him away from his lover. This caused them to snap open, “Hm?” he asked, rubbing Jensen’s arm to show him that he was, in fact, awake. Jensen didn’t miss the memo. When Misha was awake, the world was the color of blue you couldn’t look away from, and could never get over.

Jensen half-smiled, trying to shrug it off- feeling a little bad to bring it up, “Dean’s just kind of a dick.”

“Are you having an existential crisis, sweetheart?” Misha asked gently, and Jensen couldn’t help but feel warm fuzzies swelling in him at the use of the pet name. It worked. The thought of using pet names before had seemed weird- but, this one, Mish’d been trying out for awhile, and it was soft and classic and sweet- and it fit surprisingly well, just like they did.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Misha said, pulling Jensen in a little tighter, reassuringly, “I’m asking if you’re pushing away for some reason. I guess what I’m asking is: is this really about Dean?”

It was a fair question, not entirely out of left field. They didn’t talk about the show entirely too often.  _ Supernatural _ wasn’t their love story- despite its potential to be. It was a sore subject, and hours were better spent like this before donning his old persona, plus some extra resentment and anger to create Dean Winchester.

When they’d first started this- before it became anything resembling what they had now- Jensen and Dean hadn’t been entirely different. Now, being Dean and crushing Castiel- heart, spirit and soul over and over again was a bitter reminder of how much he’d probably hurt Misha in the beginning. It was so easy to come off of set now with a pain in his chest, feeling guilty and resenting himself. It was one of the reasons he was distancing himself from the show.

Misha had helped him save himself from a right-wing, toxically masculine and strict upbringing. Where things had once been black and white, void and empty- Misha had brought him color. He wished that the show could write Dean and Castiel the same ending their actors had found- so that Jensen could finally pull that last part of himself out of the darkness. 

It had been such a relief to feel the weight of Dean’s anger, sorrow and sacrificial self-hatred slip away with the love Jensen found in his family and friends. Dean didn’t come home with Jensen nearly as much- but, it was still hard to be forced time and time again into the shell of the person he used to be. 

“No,” he spoke aloud, “We’re past that.” He felt his chest flatten as he pushed air out. He meant it. They were past that. Finally, gloriously past it and free from the chains of disapproving looks and toxic relationships.

“I’m glad,” Misha said, taking his hand and holding it tight. It made Jensen feel grounded, equal and close to his partner. Then, Misha smiled. “So, Dean’s an asshole. How do we remedy this? Should we present fanfiction to Andrew and Bob? Shall we advocate for Destiel with pickets and protest signs?” Jensen watched Misha’s smile turn from happy and proud to mischievous. 

Jensen’s smile grew with Misha’s, until he shoved him playfully, “Shut up about your fanfiction,” he murmured. He remembered the time that Misha’d read him snippets of fanfiction one night while he’d been in the shower. When Jensen had protested, Misha’d playfully teased that he was ‘just trying to put him in the mood’.

“My fanfiction?” Misha teased, “I’m wounded, J. You act like I just sit around writing sexy scenarios with you. As fun as that sounds, I’m lucky enough to have the real thing.” Misha kissed Jensen’s lips gently before pulling away and searching his eyes, “Seriously though.”

Jensen shook his head, “No. Castiel deserves better than Dean. Actually, I kind of think the show’s beyond redemption. I mean, I love parts of Dean, don’t get me wrong, I always will. I love that I got a brother out of it. I love where I am because of Dean. But- it’s not going to get better. Nothing’s new- nothing new is in the works. We’ve come to the point where the most fun I have on set is getting to be in  _ Scooby Doo _ . Okay, you have to admit that was pretty badass.”

Misha shook his head.

“Stop judging me!”

“There is... _ so _ much judgment, J,” Misha teased slowly, “Anyway, I think Dean has some issues he needs to work through. I don’t think it’s hopeless for them.”

“It is though. There’s a point of no return. ‘Issues’ isn’t a free pass, Mish. ‘Issues’ means ‘okay, let’s work through this shit and get past it’, not ‘I got hurt and now I’m going to hurt the person I love, too.’

Misha had admiration in his eyes, listening intently, making sure Jensen was finished. “Are you turning into an advocate for social justice, J?”

“Yeah, kind of,” Jensen admitted, a blush crawling over his freckles, “I mean, kinda hard not to being your partner.”

“I like that,” Misha approved with a grin.

“Which part?” 

“Both,” Misha replied, pulling Jensen closer until their noses touched, “Social justice Jensen, and my _ partner _ Jensen.”

_ Partner. _ It was another word alongside ‘sweetheart’ in the dictionary of their relationship. The word had been Misha’s choice, because somewhere along the way, they’d moved past ‘boyfriend’. He was almost certain it had been a Misha-Vicki talk, as a lot of the ins and outs of polyamory often were before coming to Jensen- and, as always, when it finally did get to him, he couldn’t deny that it was right. He knew what it meant- something more than giving Misha his ring all those years ago, and more than sharing clothes. It was solid, and real. They were each other’s- in the same way as Misha and Vicki were a partnership, and as he and D were- through the good, the bad, and the worst of it all. 

“Sap,” Jensen said gently, lovingly, before turning serious again, “I’m sorry. About what the show’s put you through, Mish. I really am.”

“I appreciate that, J. But I’m not sorry for the show. I met you because of the show. I’m sorry that it hurts you to become Dean sometimes. I’m sorry for the distance they put between us. And I’m sorry for the audience. But, I’m not sorry for the show. So, what- Dean either figures it out or he doesn’t. The important thing is that you figured it out.  _ We _ figured it out. This is a safe place, J. Do you know how proud of you I am for how far you’ve come? This is a healthy,” he kissed Jensen’s nose, “Loving,” then his forehead, “Beautiful thing we have going here, Ackles.  _ You _ are beautiful. Don’t look at me like that- you are. Did I ever tell you that the reason I like butterflies so much is because they remind me of you? You have all these beautiful colors, Jensen. You’ve got me mesmerized like I’m falling in love with you all over every time I look at you. You’re amazing.” He knew that sometimes, when Jensen felt vulnerable, long anecdotes of love made him uncomfortable, like he didn’t feel worthy. “Scratch that,” Misha said, changing his tone as though he knew exactly where to stop and change the subject, “The internet still thinks you support that psychopath.”

So, politics then. Jensen rolled his eyes, “Since when have you cared what the internet thinks?”

“This presidency isn’t something I can make fun of like I can people thinking you’re sleeping with Jared, or that you hate my guts. Those insults are worthless. This presidency is dangerous and it’s scary.”

_ It means so much to him.  _ Jensen thought, feeling that twinge of regret again.  _ I remember...I remember after the election, after the twins were born. I should’ve been there for him...he was such a mess… _

“Hey,” Misha said, nuzzling up against Jensen’s cheek, “I’m not mad at you about the election-”

_...So we really are reading each other’s minds now. _

“-I just think it’s important that we use our voices. You have a sexy voice as it is,” Misha winked, “Talk politics to me, you know it gets me hot.”

“For fuck’s sake, Misha, we founded  _ You Are Not Alone _ \- you know I’m all about love and rainbows and togetherness. Of course you know I don’t support the guy.”

“So, tell people that. You don’t always have to be quiet, J. I know Jared and I can be a bit loud- but you’re heard. Your voice matters.  _ Profoundly _ ,” Misha added, emphasising the word. “The people that love you will love you no matter what, J. That’s what love is. You don’t have to protect your parents and their beliefs at the sacrifice of your own, and your voice. But, it’s on your time, Jensen. It is. But, I’m right here, and I’ve got you. You aren’t going to plummet into nothingness. You’d be surprised at how much it matters to hear someone you look up to speaking out.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Jensen said, rolling over, letting Misha snuggle into his back, “You’ve opened my eyes to a lot of things.”  _ And my mind. And my heart. _

Jensen felt the hot air from Misha’s lips...a smile, no doubt. “Like?” he coaxed.

“C’mon Mish, don’t make me say it.”

“Like?”

“Like, loving you. Loving D. Inclusion. Politics, Polyamory. The world. You might as well be a damn rainbow.”

“Or a red flag.”

“If people know what’s good for them,” Jensen quipped.

“Well, you figure it out,” Misha said, “But, just so you know, I don’t think I can copulate with someone who hasn’t denounced Trump, J.”

“Very funny.”

“Oh, I’m dead serious.” He wasn’t. He would never use his power like that. They had a safety net with positive encouragement, and Jensen needed a lot of that. They had each other’s love languages down to a ‘T’. “No sex until you paint yourself blue for the democracy. I’m sure I can talk to D, too.”

“Oh, so I’m being punished for not joining your rebellion?”

“Like you said, J. I’m a terrible influence…”

“Yeah, well apparently there’s no  _ influencing _ happening around here after tonight,” Jensen murmured, “But you should know that I already agreed with D and Gen that Jared and I are going help host an early vote rally with MJ Hegar. So, there,” he said, smugly, glad he wasn’t facing Misha at this point- he’d be able to see the smile where he knew he’d won. Not an easy task against Misha. 

Misha remained silent for a moment, before rolling Jensen back over to face him. He was smiling again when he kissed Jensen, leaving him a little breathless. “Welcome to the revolution, Jensen. Thank you.  _ Thank you _ . You’re not just doing this for me, right?” he added as a second thought, apparently wanting to ensure that Jensen knew he was valued regardless.

“Partially for you. But it’s not the main reason,” Jensen admitted, “When I decide to one day, I want to be able to hold your hand in the street, and hold D’s in my other. I want our kids to know they have options- that they can love who they want to love, and they can be who they want to be. It matters to me, Mish. The world we create for our kids, the world that’s gonna outlive us...they matter to me.”

Misha took Jensen’s hand once more, lacing their fingers before squeezing tight, “They matter to me too,” he said a little softer, “For the kids, for the world and all the people in it- and for us, Jensen. I love seeing your colors. They’re so beautiful, Jensen. Now, can you imagine the day that everyone in the world feels like they can spread their wings and soar, just like you? That’s the world I want to build- a world full of butterflies, free from their cocoons- rainbows of colors- all different, and all so very beautiful.”

“Except for the orange ones that use words like ‘bigly’.”

Misha laughed so hard it startled Jensen, “No, the orange ones, too. They just have to learn to play nice, and never, ever be put into a position of power. Ever.”

“A world for everyone. I like it.”

“It starts with one...and multiplies into millions. One day, Jensen. One day. We’ll change it together, just you wait.”

 

* * *

* * *

 

God help and forgive me, I wanna build something that’s gonna outlive me. 

America, you great unfinished symphony, you sent for me. You let me make a difference. A place where even orphan immigrants can leave their fingerprints and rise up.

-Alexander Hamilton from _Hamilton: An American Musical,_ by Lin-Manuel Miranda


End file.
